


Respite

by youremykindoftrouble



Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Alexandria Safe Zone, Caryl, F/M, angst-fluff, set just after 'remember', showering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-25 23:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3829003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youremykindoftrouble/pseuds/youremykindoftrouble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off S5 Ep 12, where Daryl won't take a shower in the ASZ. He's more stressed about the sudden change than anyone realises until Carol finds him on the porch that night, in the midst of an anxiety attack. Two-shot. There is fluff scattered throughout. T for language and nudity in chapter 2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't get that image of poor, lost Daryl sitting on the porch out of my head... I've always (since Daryl started playing a bigger role, maybe S2-ish, anyway) thought that Daryl would have some sort of anxiety issues, just judging by his actions when he's not comfortable... I thought I'd play with that a bit.

  Everyone was asleep. They were all in the living room of one of the houses again, sleeping on camping stretchers or mattresses or a few blankets on the floor. Carol hadn’t been able to fall asleep, her mind whirring with all manner of thoughts. She rolled onto her side on her foam mattress and watched Rick stare out the window, his back to her as he surveyed the empty street. As quietly as she could, she rose and picked her way through the slumbering bodies that were scattered with no real pattern around the room until she was standing next to Rick, her shoulder pressed against the frame.

  “Are you okay?” She asked softly, inspecting his freshly-shaven face. He turned to her, the moonlight catching in his eyes and giving them an eerie silver sheen.

  “I guess…” He replied, tilting his head in his characteristic way. “You can’t sleep?”

  “No.” She murmured. “It looks good, the beard. Well, the not beard.” He chuckled at her. “You know what I mean.” She smiled back at him and his hand found the small of her back, rubbing comfortingly for a moment.

  “Thank you. You looked different, today.” His lips twisted humorously.

  “Different good?” She teased. She knew the collared shirt and cardigan were frumpy, overly prim, and rather unflattering, but she was doing her best to promote the ‘housewifely’ vibe she was wearing.

  He hugged her with one arm around her waist for a moment. “Different,” was all he said, refusing to elaborate any further. She laughed softly and leaned her head on his shoulder briefly. “What are you doing, Carol? Playing the ‘den mother’?”

  “If this doesn’t last, Rick… They’ll underestimate me. I could do something, even if they’re watching the rest of you.”

  He looked down at her in surprise. “You don’t think it’ll work out?”

  “I don’t know who to trust any more.” She admitted. “They seem honest… Naïve, but honest. But Terminus started out as a safe place and that went bad.”

  “Michonne thinks this could be it,” He offered. “She really does.”

  Carol looked over to where Michonne was sleeping, one hand on her stomach and the other tucked under her pillow. The sheath that usually buckled around her thigh was gone. “She’s got good instincts. Her and Daryl, both.”

  “Daryl isn’t right.” Rick shook his head, looking torn. “He’s uncomfortable… It’s throwing him off. It’s like he can’t accept this place even exists.” He looked down at her then. She knew he could see the sadness on her face, the frustration and desperation all mixing together over Daryl.

  “He’s on watch. I don’t think he’s spent more than ten minutes inside at once since we got here. I doubt he’s slept, either.” She rubbed at her arms. “Have we been out there too long, Rick? Carl almost had a panic attack over video games this afternoon. Daryl gutted a possum on my front porch… Glenn got in a fist fight. They must think we’re feral.”

  “Almost too long.” He admitted. “Daryl’s like a caged animal, pacing all the time. Sasha’s going the same way. I showed Judith the running water today and she had no idea… We have to get used to it again.” He turned to look at the sleeping group and she copied him. “What happened with Carl?”

  They both watched the boy sleep for a few moments, one of his hands pressed against the leg of Judith’s crib. “He got back from playing video games with some of the kids here and just started gasping.” Carol squeezed Rick’s hand where his arms were folded across his chest. “He was just so overwhelmed… He was scared they weren’t going to like him; he said he didn’t know how to make friends anymore. I think, maybe… It was too much for him to take in all at once? Electricity, running water, having to make friends like a normal kid again? That’s gotta be hard.”

  Rick nodded slowly. “I shouldn’t have let him go.”

  “Yeah, you should have.” Carol assured him. “He’s going to get used to it. We all are.”

  Rick squeezed her hand in return and released it from his grip. “You should get some sleep if you’re going to be a happy little Stepford Wife tomorrow.”

  “I’m going to check on Daryl first.” She said. “Get some sleep, Deputy.” He grinned lopsidedly and for a moment she saw that man she watched reunite with his family at the quarry. He looked optimistic, hopeful, but in his eyes steel glinted. She turned and stepped over Sasha, then Noah, and eased the door open enough that she could slip out onto the porch. Daryl was in the same position he had been in the last time she had seen him, just before sunset. It had been at least a couple of hours since then. He was sitting on the porch, knees drawn up loosely with his forearms resting loosely across them. He looked up at her when her footsteps sounded quietly on the wooden surface and she gave him the soft little half-smile she always had ready for him.

  He didn’t return it. When his eyes met hers, she forced herself not to flinch at the animal panic she could see there. Instead, she stepped until she was right in front of him, until the toes of her shoes were just touching his boots. He didn't speak. It was then that she noticed that his hands were clenched tightly, so hard that his skin shone white in the moonlight. His chest and shoulders were jerking with rapid, stunted breaths and his eyes were fixed on hers with such an intensity she couldn’t break their shared gaze. He looked like he was drowning.

“C-” He choked. “Carol-” His closed fist twitched and she realised his fingers were clamped shut, his entire body in panic-mode and outside of his control. “I can’t-” His breath hitched and stuttered. “Can’t breathe.” He was rocking minutely, and she didn't know if it was a self-calming mechanism or the force of his hyperventilation that was causing it.

  “No,” She murmured soothingly, sinking to her knees and edging his arms out of the way so that she could kneel between his knees. “No, honey, don’t do that.” She squeezed his hands in her own, feeling the bones creak under the force of his tight fists. She ran her fingers up his arms, over his shoulders until she was holding his face in her palms. “Look at me.” His eyes were already latched onto hers, but it was like he was seeing through her. She tilted his face up and felt the tendons and muscles in his neck tighten against the movement when he’d been rigid with stress for so long. He finally focused on her and she stroked her thumbs over his cheeks, rubbing soothing circles over the taut muscles of his jaw with a firm touch.

  He let out a shuddering, heart-breaking sigh and she pulled his head to her chest, finger-combing his hair while he tried to inhale. “Slow,” She whispered. “Easy, now… You’re okay, I’ve got you. Just breathe…” She inhaled deeply, knowing he would feel it in the rise and fall of her chest. Her palm that was pressed flat in between his shoulder blades felt him try to take a deeper breath, but his constricted chest fought him. “Again…” She encouraged softly. “I’m right here.” She inhaled again. Her hand on his back rubbed in a circular motion, smoothing away the tension wherever she could, and her hand in his hair stroked with as much love as she could put into the action. His hot, terrified gasps washed against her chest in an almost numbing rhythm.

  It felt like eons before his chest finally let go with one expansive whoosh and he seemed almost shocked that he could breathe easier. His breathing stuttered but she inhaled slowly and he copied her, his shaking hands coming up to press into her back once he managed to get control of his muscles once again. His whole body was shuddering. His thighs were trembling and she could feel the convulsive shivers run up and down his spine. “Good…” She crooned, dropping her head to speak into his hair. “That’s better… You’re doing so well.” He gave a strangled sob against her skin before inhaling again, this time through his nose instead of the frantic panting he’d been doing for the last long while. He nuzzled desperately at her clavicle and took another big breath, and she realised he was trying to breathe in her scent to calm himself. His fingers flexed against her back and she pressed closer, shuffling further between his thighs to get as close as he wanted. She began making a low humming in her throat, rocking him slightly, waiting for his shivering to subside.

  Someone, probably Rick, turned off the last lantern in the house, and she realised she’d been out here long enough for him to assume she’d gone to sleep on the porch. Daryl took a few more deep breaths before his hands slid around to her waist and he eased her backwards the tiniest bit. She shuffled back until her hands were resting on his bent knees, one of them upright and the other laying angled outwards on the ground.

  “Sorry.” He rasped. He was still breathing with an artificial deepness, but he wasn’t panicking anymore so she climbed over his leg and leaned back against the porch railing nest to him, drawing up her knees enough to use them as arm rests. She tipped her head back against the railing. He mirrored her.

  “Don’t be sorry.” She said. His fingers crept up the outside of her thigh, timidly heading toward her hand which rested atop her knee. She spread her fingers so that when his hand came to a stop on top of hers, his fingers slotted into the gaps and then she closed her fist gently, effectively tangling their grasps together. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

  “Thought I could handle it.” She rubbed her thumb over the outside edge of his right hand where it rested on her left one, feeling the spots of hot, weeping skin where he’d clearly repeatedly ground his lit cigarette into it to suppress his anxiety.

  “This…” She said, bringing his hand up to kiss the back of it. “This isn’t ‘handling it’.”

  “Thought I could… Normally can. Don’ normally get that far.” His eyes had fluttered shut when she kissed his hand, anxiety and exhaustion and comfort warring on his face at her touch. She shifted until she couldn’t physically get any closer and leaned up against his side. He exhaled heavily. “Sorry you had to see that.”

  “I know what it’s like.” She soothed. “Don’t be embarrassed, either.”

  They sat in silence, his cheek laid against her head laid against his shoulder, until his breathing evened out into something more natural. She could feel the tension bubbling just beneath his skin and knew he had something to say, so she waited until he’d processed it in his mind rather than press him to speak.

  “I can’t do it.” He said finally. “This is so wrong.”

  “What?” She asked, squeezing his hand.

  “This place… I can’t stay here. ’s not for people like me. I ain’t…” He shrugged with his other shoulder. “’S like I ain’t wired right or somethin’. Can’t even turn the damn shower on without almost pissin’ myself.” He laughed harshly. “Ain’t gotta hunt, can’t take watch. That shrink knows I ain’t good for anythin’ round here but she don’t wanna say it outright ’til y’all are settled here.” His voice shook but he cleared his throat and carried on. “Fuck, Carol, I ain’t never seen anythin’ as nice as this an’ I just… I don’ fit. I don’t wanna be on my own again.” He was breathing in slowly, deeply, trying to prevent another panic attack. “’S like I either can’t stay still or I can’t move, I gotta get outta here but y’all gotta stay an’ I can’t do it by myself no more.” His chest was heaving with increasing force with every sentence. His grip on her hand was flexing and squeezing with fear and she squeezed as hard as she could.

  “Daryl, stop it.” She said firmly. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll get there… I still don’t trust them entirely but even if they turn out good, we don’t have to stay. We could go somewhere, you and me.” He shook his head as forcefully as he could manage.

  “You fit here.” He argued.

  “Give it time, and you will, too.” She kissed his shoulder and squeezed his hand. “But for now? I think we should call it a night.” He let her hand go and nodded shakily. She thought to herself that she hadn’t seen him so fragile since Merle had died and he’d stumbled into her cell, covered in his brother’s blood, and sunk brokenly to her mattress beside her.

  “You go on in, go to bed. I’ma keep watch a lil’ longer.”

  She got to her feet and held out her hand for him to take. “I can’t sleep in there with everyone around, knowing you’re out here alone.” He held her hand and clambered to his feet. He opened his mouth to say something but she cut him off. “I’m going to go in and get you some spare clothes. The other house is completely empty, so we’re going to take a nice, hot shower, okay? And there’s a bed made up for you in there-” She inclined her head towards the door she’d come out of earlier. “So you can get some rest after.”

  He nodded slowly. “You gonna come too?” He asked.

  “If you want me to.” She replied. He was withdrawn; not in his usual, surly, snappish way, when he was done with everyone’s company and wanted to be left alone, but in a way that suggested he was so desperately overwhelmed by his situation that he had retreated into his own mind to try to cope with it. He was well and truly burned out, and despite Carol’s own instinctive distrust of the setup in Alexandria, she hoped it would at least allow him some respite.

  “Yeah.” He nodded again. “That’d be nice.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so not as much nudity and such as I was going for here... There's actually not a heck of a lot, if I'm being honest! But it is finished and ready for posting so I figured I'd do it now rather than later.

  She left him standing on the porch and went back inside, stepping over bodies and pausing to rub Judith’s tummy when the little girl blinked blearily up at her. She rifled through the bag he’d been given and grabbed a spare set of clothes for him before heading back out. He was waiting exactly where she’d left him, eyes distant while he dealt with whatever was running through his mind. He was sleep-deprived and anxiety-ridden, swaying where he stood. Wordlessly, she took his hand and led him down the stairs and up onto the other house they’d been allocated, using the moonlight that shone through the wide bay windows as a light source while he followed numbly. It wasn’t until they had to carefully make their way upstairs in the dark that she regretted not bringing a lantern, but they managed without letting go of their loosely linked fingers.

  “Light.” She murmured, giving him warning before she flicked the light on in the bathroom. He flinched when the room burst into illumination and the low hum of the bathroom fan had him looking around nervously until he recognised the sound, so unfamiliar now.

  This bathroom was absolutely stunning.

  The shower was tiled in dark granite-look tiles, with a white strip running at waist height around the two tiled walls. The bathtub next to it was big enough for two people, and the sheer spaciousness of the room took Carol’s breath away. It looked like one of the bathrooms in a home design magazine. She tugged Daryl towards the shower, dropping his clothes on the counter next to the basin as they passed it. Towels hung on the hooks next to the shower and there were washcloths and loofahs ready to use, along with body washes and shampoos.

  She began unbuckling her boots, sitting on the edge of the tub. It was deep enough that if she filled it properly, she could submerge herself neck-deep. She sighed at the thought of a hot soak and tugged off one boot, starting on the other. Daryl was watching her as if he was equal parts intrigued and terrified.

  “Come on,” She said. “You too.”

  “You showerin’ again?” He asked, chewing on his cuticle.

  “I’m never going to turn down a hot shower ever again.” She chuckled. “I’ve had two today already.”

  He snorted at her but shrugged off his vest and placed it on the rail attached to the wall. Carol toed off her other boot and pulled her socks off, wriggling her toes against the cool tiles on the floor. He looked at her almost guiltily for a second.

  “Technically, we’re saving water here.” She teased. “Showering with a friend and all that.”

  A hint of blush appeared on his otherwise too-pale face, still ashy from his panic attack. He set to work on the buttons of his shirt and she turned her back to him to turn the shower on while he finished undressing. The water took a little while to heat up, but after showering under a pathetic trickle of cold creek-water at the prison and nothing worth mentioning since then, she wasn’t complaining. “You okay?” She asked, hearing the faint rustle of his clothes being removed cease when the water started up.

  “Sure.” He said faintly from behind her. She didn’t know why it was the thought of the shower running that made him so panicky, but Carl had been the same this afternoon about video games, and Sasha couldn’t tolerate the sound of more than a few voices at once. For Carol, it was the sight of the old photographs, left behind when the original families had fled; The smiling, happy housewives with giggling, beautiful children sent her heartbeat racing and left her shaking, unable to catch her breath. Sasha had come by and asked for them, and Carol had been so glad to see them go that she hadn’t questioned the other woman’s odd request.

  “I know it’s hard…” She said, her back still to him as she peeled her tank top off over her head. “But you’ll feel so much better when you’re clean. And the water’s good, Daryl. I promise.”

  “Yeah.” His voice was so soft that she almost didn’t catch his words, but the hesitant touch at her waist was enough to make her move out of the way so that he could slip past her and into the near-obscenely sized shower. She watched the long lines of his body angle past her, his dark mess of hair leading down to a broad back and muscular shoulders, littered with raised pink and purplish scars. The lean length of his thighs led down to feet and toes that flexed nervously, inches from where the water pounded against the tiles. She found that nervous little movement strangely endearing. She quickly stripped off the rest of her clothes and followed him in, closing the clear door behind her.

  “It’s okay.” She prompted his shoulder blades where they stood level with her face, taut with discomfort. “Go on.” He stepped forward and under the hot water, jumping and almost recoiling at the sensation of the shower kneading his skin where it hit him. He held himself tersely for a moment and she felt gooseflesh rise on her body as she stood there staring at his back, feeling the coolness of the flooring become chillier the longer she lingered. He groaned in pleasure after a few beats, letting his head drop forwards under the spray. She watched the tension leak from his shoulders and back until he was slouching under the water.

  She shuffled closer and he stepped forward, letting her share the flow of water. He reached for the washcloth in the shower caddy and squeezed a generous blob of shower gel onto it. The crisp fragrance swirled on the steam and made Carol’s head spin with delight that they had access to such things again. She reached around him and snagged another cloth, before taking the bottle from him and putting some on her own cloth. The first touch to the back of his neck had him flinching in surprise, and he almost dropped the cloth he was using to methodically scrub at his arm.

  “Shh.” She soothed, placing her other hand on his shoulder while she wiped away the grit that had accumulated on them all on the road. He turned his head just far enough that he could give her his shy half-smile without her thinking he was trying to sneak a glance. She returned it and let her hand on his shoulder slide along until it was resting above his shoulder blade, her fingers dipping and rising over the defined muscles and demons that scrambled up his skin. She carefully cleaned every inch of his neck and shoulders before pausing. The steam was so thick in the shower that she felt as if she were wrapped in some warm, cottony cocoon, but she despite her own supreme relaxation she didn’t know how kindly he would take it if she were to touch his scars so deliberately.

  Even under the accumulated grime she could see how harshly the raised marks stood out against his skin, and she thought of the long scar that ran down her ribcage from just under her right breast and terminated somewhere between the curve of her hip and her lower spine. It was an odd sensation, having someone touch it, and it made her squirm in an uncomfortable way to think of the strange, shivery feeling of that scarred skin being multiplied a dozen times and spread across most of her back.

  The washcloth ghosted over the edge of the highest one and he didn’t react other than a surprised inhale, even though he kept scrubbing his chest now that his arms were clean.

  “Is it okay?” She asked softly, running her free hand back up to gently massage the muscle between his shoulder and neck. “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

  He mumbled something at her and she took it as consent. His back muscles jumped and flexed as he raised his hands to scrub at his face and wash his hair, and the black demons twisted and danced as water sluiced over them. She cleaned the expanse of his back as precisely as she had his neck and shoulders until they were both standing still under the hot water, clean and silent, her hand on his back their only point of contact.

  “Seen ’em now, I guess.” He said, and she realised he was worried about her seeing his scars in full for the first time. She ran her thumb parallel to one, not quite touching it, and hummed. He shivered and squirmed away just slightly until he realised she wasn’t going to touch it.

  “I’m not going to.” She offered. “I know they feel funny.” Her fingers drifted over to the demons and she traced them, feeling the slick glide of his hot, wet skin under her hand. “I like these.”

  He huffed a short laugh. “Yeah… They’re alright.” He turned his head to meet her gaze and she could tell he was still wary of her reaction to the ragged patchwork of his back. She tilted her head and gave him a thin smile.

 “I’ve got one, too.” She said.

  “A tattoo?” His brows jumped upwards in surprise. He half-turned towards her, seemingly forgetting that they were both naked and dripping wet in the shower together. She angled away from him enough that the important bits were covered and laughed, shaking her head.

  “No, I don’t have a tattoo!” She giggled. “I meant a scar.” She turned and raised her right arm so that he could see where the scar ran. He hissed in a breath and made like he was going to touch it before catching himself. His eyes flicked down to her rear for a moment and she turned away to hide her smile at the appreciative glance and the shy way he carefully averted his eyes after that. “He had this belt…” She offered. “Always the same one, I don’t know why. And he had good aim…”

  “Not a one-off, huh.” His voice was heavy, and she knew he was thinking of the sharp bite of leather into skin, the sting of air in the wound afterwards.

  “No.” She turned to him, one arm folded over her breasts although his eyes were fixed on her face. She pressed her lips together with humour at the situation, unable to break the shared gaze even as she felt herself begin to laugh silently. His lips were quirking, too, and she knew he was as amused as she was at the ridiculousness of their current state. They were both trying so hard to stop their eyes from wandering over each other’s naked bodies, silly grins growing on their faces.

  It wasn’t really funny, given the topic of conversation, but the delightful feeling of being clean and showered had Carol feeling like skipping around the room, and judging by the look on his face, Daryl was feeling the same. He looked so much younger with his hair slicked back from his face and free of grime, but the dark bags under his eyes belied how exhausted he really was. She reached up with one hand to scratch at his scruff, and didn’t miss the way his eyes darted down to where her breasts were pressed against her other arm. She pursed her lips and gave him a playful look and he glanced away with a slight blush rising, but grinning abashedly like he didn’t really mind being caught. She felt another smile crack through and she laughed softly as she withdrew her hand and reached around him to turn off the water. He groaned disapprovingly but she turned and pushed the door open, stepping out into the steam-filled room and grabbing a towel.

  He followed her and wrapped it around his waist, tucking it in as he watched her tuck the loose end in under her arm with a vague sort of interest.

  “Feel better?” She asked, using her fingers to shake most of the water out of her hair.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. The sweet, happy mood had begun to evaporate with the steam, but he gave her a little sideways grin anyway as she let her eyes rove over his naked torso. She knew they had all become muscular and lean, but _this_ was a nice surprise. His chest and shoulders were defined from hoisting his crossbow all day, but the hard planes of his stomach were covered by just enough flesh that he was lean rather than bordering-on-ribby like she’d seen on some of the new people at the prison. His abs made her fingers itch to drag over them but she restrained, wrapped in a towel with a few feet between them.

  “Who’s Norman?” She asked after the black script over his heart.

  “My Grandpa- Mom’s Dad.” He bobbed his head. “He was a good guy. Almost convinced her to take me an’ Merle an’ leave my Dad but he died ’fore she ever did it.”

  “I’m sorry.” She said. He shook his head and stepped towards her, surprising her. She didn’t expect it when he cupped her jaw in his palm and rubbed at her chin with his thumb. She frowned at him in confusion until he turned his thumb to show her the few remaining soap bubbles. They looked like tiny shampoo bubbles that must have somehow landed on her while he was washing his hair. “Is that what you were laughing at?” She asked with a chuckle.

  “Naw, didn’t even notice ’em ’til just now… Was laughin’ at you laughin’.” He backed away and turned to grab the clothes she’d put on the counter. She stepped up behind him and felt him pause, but he didn’t feel tense. She rested her chin on his shoulder and rubbed his sides for a moment.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you out there earlier.” She murmured as he relaxed back into her towel-clad body. His skin was smooth and hot, like always; he gave out heat like a furnace in the middle of winter as well.

  “Didn’t wanna disturb anybody.” He replied. “’S’alright. You wanna go back to the others?”

  “We could sleep here.” She said. “There’s four bedrooms in this one, and I don’t know if we can get back in the other house without waking anyone up.”

  He hummed lowly. “You ain’t sleepin’ alone.” He reminded her. “Still ain’t that sure we’re safe here.”

  “Oh? Are you offering to share a bed with me? To protect me, of course.” She pursed her lips and gave the little wriggle he’d come to associate with her unstoppable flirting.

  “Yeah.” He said, deciding to give as good as he got. “That’d be my, uh, my main priority. Definitely.” He bit his lip and gave her a look that was as filthy as it was playful and he grinned momentarily when her eyes widened in surprise.

  He snickered when her mouth opened and closed a couple of times without saying anything.

  “ _Stop…_ ” She drawled after a beat where she regained her composure. He just raised an eyebrow at her and sauntered out, looking for a bedroom to dress in.

  He was making his way down the hallway when he heard her whistle softly to get his attention. He turned to see her sticking her head out of the bathroom, a glow of yellow light streaming out behind her.

  “Play your cards right and you won’t even need to put them back on.” She teased, gesturing at the clothes in his hands.

  “Stop.” He snorted.

  She laughed and shut the door behind her, leaving him in the dark to find somewhere for them to bed down. He felt odd as he pulled his clean clothes on in the bedroom he’d chosen. He felt strangely happy, in a selfish sort of way, that he was getting to spend some peaceful time with Carol after all the weeks on the road and now here, under constant surveillance; her combination of playful teasing and unconditional kindness had always had a way of relaxing him and making him feel like it wasn’t as bad as he thought it could be… But there was also, somewhere in the back of his mind, the hope that maybe this peaceful alone-time they were having wouldn’t be so peaceful. He’d snuck a glimpse in the shower, he couldn’t help himself. The problem was now that he was outside that all-encompassing glow of strength and warmth that seemed to surround her, he was thinking of other things besides how much calmer he felt for having spent time in her presence. The bold way she’d reacted to him checking her out had been a little… Inspiring, to say the least, and he was debating on what he would do when she came in to climb into bed.

  He shook his head at himself. There was no way he was going to be able to screw up the courage to make a move, not with everything else that had been on his mind over the last couple of days, but he wasn’t particularly disappointed by the knowledge that nothing was going to happen tonight. She slipped into the room and hit the switch, plunging them into darkness and he heard her fumble her way to the bed. He climbed into his side and waited for her to settle comfortably before he rolled and slipped an arm around her waist, his forehead pressing lightly into her shoulder blades.

  “Okay?” He asked softly. Her hand came to rest over his, pressing it slightly more firmly into her stomach, and he obligingly tightened his grip until he was holding her with an easy familiarity rather than the soft touch he’d started with. He inhaled gently, the clean smell of her soothing the last of his uncertainty away.

  “Yeah.” She murmured, and he could feel the tiniest vibration of her voice against his face. “That’s perfect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I appreciate each and every review that comes my way :)

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter two is going to be much more fluff, much less angst. Stay tuned! Thanks for reading, leave a review and tell me what you thought :)


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